


Did You Miss Me?

by vanecek



Category: Durarara!!/デュラララ!!
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-03-22
Updated: 2011-03-21
Packaged: 2017-10-17 08:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanecek/pseuds/vanecek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Izaya feels his phone vibrate, and instantly smirks. He already knows everything about the message. It will be from Masaomi Kida, it will be less than five words, and it will basically mean "no". He picks up the phone and looks anyway, laughing to himself as he reads it and types up a reply.</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. YOU CAN'T HIDE FOREVER

**Author's Note:**

> Izaya feels his phone vibrate, and instantly smirks. He already knows everything about the message. It will be from Masaomi Kida, it will be less than five words, and it will basically mean "no". He picks up the phone and looks anyway, laughing to himself as he reads it and types up a reply.

Izaya feels his phone vibrate, and instantly smirks. He already knows everything about the message. It will be from Masaomi Kida, it will be less than five words, and it will basically mean "no". He picks up the phone and looks anyway, laughing to himself as he reads it and types up a reply.

 _I can't. I'm busy._

 _You can't hide forever, Masaomi_ , he clicks, sending it, quite enjoying the mental imagery of the faces Kida is making now. Probably frustration, and at some point, disgust—it's not hard to tell that the boy isn't that fond of him. Or less him, and the idea that he's still associating with him. Izaya stuffs his phone in his pocket, finding a second jacket to pull on, as it's raining outside. He's just going to go for a walk, is all...just a walk.

And maybe he'll run into Masaomi while he's out? Only by chance, of course.

* * *

The rain stopped bothering Kida a long time ago, he's discovered there were many, _many_ worse things than water falling from the sky. He makes his way to Raira, planning on sneaking his way into his classroom and dropping off some late homework. It's nothing he hasn't done before, knowing the doors that were often left unlocked by heart. All he has to do is sneak in and tuck the paper in with the others, and the teacher won't even notice.

Usually, Izaya did it for him. But that was before. Kida's done with that guy, he's working on cutting his ties and being as uninvolved with him as possible—it's bad enough that he still goes to this school, having to live with knowing the main reason he's even here is all thanks to that bastard.

 _You can't hide forever, Masaomi,_ reads his last text. Well, fuck him. Izaya doesn't control his life. Maybe one day Kida will pack up his bags and run off to a whole other city, and then no one will find him! He could even change his name. No one has to know, except maybe Anri and Mikado. They know how to keep secrets.

And they certainly know how to keep them from Izaya. Suddenly, moving was sounding like a good idea, in theory—he'd just gotten so attached to Ikebukuro, imagining moving was...difficult. It sounds like rainbows and sunshine, but just how satisfied would he really _be_?

This isn't the time to think about that kind of thing—he's in front of Raira now. It's gated, but moving around the back and finding a convenient place to get over (a conveniently placed rock to step on, a sturdy tree, and finally, the top of the gate) is his ticket in.

The rest is easy. All of the doors are meant to be locked, but he's learned over the time being here that there's always one left unlocked. And on the inside, well, he's also learned just how easy it is to pick their shoddy doorknob locks. So, his adventure to the classroom is less than exciting, and it's not long before he's safely tucked his assignment in the pile.

Kida should be feeling guilty. Well, he does, slightly, but sneaking in a paper that's only a few hours late seems a lot like nothing in comparison to other things he's done. It's not like he's that bad of a student, anyway...

"Masaomi!" calls out a voice, and Kida's stomach leaps as he turns to face the culprit. For a second, he thought it was the teacher. But only for a second, this voice is _unmistakable._ "What're you doing here, and without any of my help, even?"

The teacher would've been better.

"I don't always need your help, Izaya," says the blonde, edging away from the desk and trying to look as calm as he can as he walks toward the door.

It's almost to be expected that Izaya steps right in front of his way out, blocking it. Kida knows damn well just trying to shove the man aside won't be of any use. The only way left is to talk his way out, and that's never gotten him anywhere.

"Masaomi is growing up, eh? But not quite enough that you know how to turn in your assignments on time?" mocks Izaya, hand twiddling with the knob, teasing Kida. "What would your parents have to say?"

"They don't care what I do, so they wouldn't say anything," replies Kida. But that's false. His comings and goings were always simply left at hanging out with friends, and they never asked. Maybe if they knew what he did in his spare time, they would care. "Don't you think turning in assignments late is a little low on the 'bad things I can do' scale?"

"I'm just looking out for Masaomi," states Izaya, leaning forward and grabbing the boy's sweatshirt hood, pulling him forward. "You see, he hasn't come by to see me lately. Or call me. But usually I can expect his presence quite often! So I started to worry about Masaomi!"

Worry, my _ass,_ thinks Kida, that guy doesn't know how to worry, he can't even worry for himself. Kida goes with the motion, not stepping any closer than he has to, but not backing away. If he were anywhere else—if he had anywhere he could escape from that _wasn't_ a window from the third floor, maybe he'd run.

But no. The only kind of escaping he can do at the moment is look away from Izaya's piercing, freakish gaze. He can almost _feel_ the look, and he can almost feel the way Izaya's expression becomes only more twisted when Kida looks away. The guy _knows_ exactly what he's doing to him, and the sick fuck likes it. He likes to torture other people and mess with their mind. Kida contemplates vomiting on him and running, but that would probably only interest him more. Every thing, no matter how horrible and wrong and gut-wrenching it was, every little thing, excites him.

"Have you missed me?"

"I've been busy," Kida says flatly, not wanting to say _no, because you're a creepy shit_ , because who knows what Izaya would have to say about that. Nothing good.

"I'm busy too, Masaomi, we all have lives~!" Izaya shouts out, in somewhat of a scary singsong voice. "But I still take time out of my day to answer your calls, and your texts, and I go out of my way to do these kinds of things for you! What would happen if I stopped telling you things? Would you and your little gang be on your own?" Izaya's grip loosens on Kida's jacket, though it's still there. His other hand messes with the doorknob, forcing it to make some sort of sound, informing Kida that, yes, he's still trapped.

"Maybe I don't need it," he says, "because...if I leave that kind of thing, then I won't need it." Kida finally makes eye contact. "I don't want to be a part of this anymore."

Izaya lets go of him, and immediately starts _laughing_ , he just can't hold them back and cannot stop the laughs from coming. Kida doesn't know what to do—so awkward, the guy's nuts—and he just kind of stands there, turning pink, like he's embarrassed for some reason. Izaya laughs so hard he tears up a little, and as he comes down from his high, he wipes them and places his hand on Kida's shoulder.

"Masaomi. Don't joke like that," says Izaya. "Of course that's not going to happen. I won't let you leave here—you're just too important to me! I need you to keep up this role, yeah?" _Fucking crazy._ Kida's about to protest when he continues, "I'll make sure you can't leave."

"...And how would you even do that?" Kida dares to ask. He's genuinely interested.

"Blackmail," says Izaya, flatly, completely honest and blunt. "Don't forget that little favour you did for me a few weeks ago. Did you know I was recording it~? Masaomi, it was just so cute! I couldn't _not_ record it. And I just—I'd be so lonely if you left me, and how would I ever get my work done~? I _need_ you here, and I needed something to keep you here!"

Kida's initial thought, after realisation hits, is maybe he doesn't care. If he left, why would he care so much who saw that tape? He'd be gone. It wouldn't matter.

But that wouldn't work, would it? He's been around Izaya enough to be able to put himself in the freak's shoes. It would only backfire on him. Perhaps he'd show it to Mikado or Anri, and ask them to do the things Kida is supposed to be doing, now—Mikado, at least, would do it, he had too soft of a heart—and it would only get them involved unnecessarily.

Kida realises he's backed into a corner, mentally and physically. If he ever gets to sever his ties with Izaya, it will be somewhat of a miracle.

"Ah, Masaomi, that's the face of someone who understands, I like that," says Izaya, hand sliding its way up Kida's shoulder and along his neck. "I take it you have no argument, right? So you shouldn't be opposed to stopping by once in awhile, should you? It's been rather empty without your appearance. Namie never talks to me unless she's bitching about something!" _Maybe it's because nobody likes you._

But he can't bring himself to say it. He can't bring himself to say anything. Kida's stuck, and there's not going to be a way out, at least, not anytime soon. And it would require planning past Izaya's mentality—and shit, as much as he wants to call the guy stupid, he really isn't. He's smart, and amazing at what he does. Mindfucker extraordinaire.

"Now, tell me again, did you miss me?" Izaya's hold on Kida's jaw keeps him in place, unable to avoid him or pretend he's somewhere else. No fantasy land. But that doesn't stop him from going silent.

Izaya's smile spreads wider, his hand leaving the doorknob to reach behind Kida's waist and pull him in closer. The boy's discomfort makes his mind twist and turn with absolute joy and excitement. Kida was absolutely the _best_! A boy who likes to have ambition somewhere in there, turning to jelly in Izaya's touch! It's amazing, it's thrilling!

"Masaomi, did you miss me? Tell me you missed me," he instructs, pressing his knee painfully between Kida's legs and pulling his face in closer. Izaya leans his head down, coming very closely to Kida's, his exhales landing straight-on.

It's horrible. To be this close to one of your worst enemies, who somehow manages to be your biggest ally. Manipulated. Kida doesn't know if death would be any worse anymore.

"I missed you," he forces himself to say, the words clearly being the exact opposite of what he'd like to say. The mental pain of it all is clearly struck across his face.

"Good boy," answers Izaya, kissing him then, for what seemed like forever—forcing his tongue inside the younger's mouth and annoyingly pinching Kida in the neck when the boy wasn't cooperating like he wanted.

It was almost rape. Yet, somehow, from those weeks ago, from that certain encounter, there was just a smidgen bit of emotion left that Kida couldn't completely tuck away. The little tiny diamond in the rough that prevented Izaya's doings from being rape.


	2. YOU CAN'T HIDE FOREVER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Masaomi likes it when I touch him like this," comments Izaya, caressing the younger's skin more, but now refusing to give any kisses, barely managing to control the urge to be all over that adorable mouth! "Does Masaomi prefer it when I use both hands?"

Masaomi Kida's presence in the trio of friends—himself, Mikado Ryugamine, and Anri Sonohara—is about to shorten. Tonight, he had intended to meet up with them for dinner and a movie, but at this moment he is realising he will send Mikado a (late) text, around dinner, and say that he won't be able to make it. Mikado will promptly reply with his usual understanding personality, simply saying that it's alright, and he won't ask any questions.

It makes Kida feel bad. Now, he's stuck in a classroom at Raira—against school rules—with none other than the most unlikely, and unsavoury, person he could be there with: Izaya Orihara.

"Masaomi," says that man, directly in front of Kida, now pulling back from the kiss he had forced the blonde into. "Where is your mind?"

Dumb fuck. Why is he so observant of this kind of thing? It's really bothering and a headache for Kida. As if his existence wasn't bad enough.

"Gone," Kida replies, limp in Izaya's hold. He doesn't even have the will in him to care. There is no longer any point in caring. Izaya wins.

"I suppose that will have to do for now," Izaya says, in a taunting, devilish type voice, "but I expect you to be at your utmost best tomorrow!" He lets his grip on Kida's waist loose, and then drops it completely, letting him free.

Kida comes back to reality, slightly surprised by this motion, looking down at his free body and then up at Izaya, backing away from him. Fucking finally. Silently, he turns to pick up his backpack, then approaching Izaya again at the door, wanting through. He looks determined. Izaya laughs, not stepping away—instead, he turns his back to the boy, getting down on his haunches.

"What are you—"

"Piggyback ride, come on!" urges Izaya, motioning for Kida to just climb onto his back already. "You'll never again get a chance like this~! Ride me, ride me!"

Kida's initially taken aback by the other's choice of words and cannot resist a blush, but he assumes that, thankfully, Izaya can't see his face anyways, and cautiously climbs on. God, this is scary—he won't be surprised if Izaya just suddenly drops him.

But no, Izaya holds onto the boy's legs and stands, now exiting the classroom. It makes perfect sense to Kida, actually, as he's only being allowed to exist the room by Izaya's conditions and standards. The world is twisted, isn't it?

And, shit, Izaya is so warm, and when he's acting like this, it's not something Kida can avoid. It's sunny outside, too, so he won't be pelted by rain for a second time, and besides that, he'd gotten used to the dampness of his sweatshirt. It wasn't even that wet, or Izaya likely would've thrown a fit.

So, maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so horrible for Kida to take what he can get. And right now, taking what he can get is taking a free ride, wherever they're going. Probably Izaya's place. He doesn't care. He would have ended up there eventually, so at least the ride there was going to be so easy.

Deep down, Kida knows he shouldn't be so calm about this situation. But for some reason, he can't help it. Acceptance is becoming easier and easier when he gives in and blocks out certain things. Izaya needs him, right...? He said he does! And who is Kida to say no to someone in need, who has no other friends, no one else to turn to? After thinking about it like that, it...definitely...makes sense!

As he's carried out of Raira—and Izaya is skilled enough to get them both over the fence with minimal disturbance—Kida dozes off, already exhausted. His last thoughts are ones wondering if the thoughts he had previous to them truly made sense, or if it was some sad attempt to give himself comfort, and reasoning.

* * *

Kida stirs, blinking his eyes furiously as they wake from a deep sleep. He really was tired. Looking out the window, the sky is darker than he remembers last, and the moon is beginning to rise. So, it's evening? he wonders, rolling onto his side a little, realising he's in bed. A bed. It isn't his. Once he's noticed that little detail, the next move is to look behind him, only to see Izaya's sleeping face.

Fuck, it's kind of mesmerising, to see the beast at rest. Kida tears his sight away, his own face starting to get warmer, now setting his legs over the edge of the bed and lifting the blankets from himself to quietly make his escape—

Plain foiled. Izaya is awake and definitely alive, his arm crawling out to somewhat lazily grab Kida's waist. He only puts just enough effort into it to stop the blonde from leaving bed.

"Masaomi is so cute when he sleeps," he says, forcefully pulling Kida back, and in, very closely. "You were so tired, and it was just so _adorable_!"

Izaya quickly sits himself up, and without warning, forces Kida into his lap, then kisses him to elicit a relatively loud shout.

"Hey, stop!" Kida cries between Izaya's obsessive, rough kisses. "S-stop...!"

But he doesn't—not shocking. Izaya just continues on, flipping Kida onto his back and then sitting on him, hovering over his upper half. Izaya stops any future cries by attaching their lips together again, a hand travelling under the younger's shirt causing him to go weak. Vulnerable. _Fucking beautiful._

"Masaomi likes it when I touch him like this," comments Izaya, caressing the younger's skin more, but now refusing to give any kisses, barely managing to control the urge to be all over that adorable mouth! "Does Masaomi prefer it when I use both hands?"

"No!" Kida shouts out, but Izaya only squeezes his legs tighter around his waist to prevent any escape attempts, pulling the white, and now dry, sweatshirt up and touching even more. Touching his fragile stomach, tickling a bit, running his hands around Kida's sides, and lastly, dipping his fingers teasingly beneath Kida's pant's waistband.

"You act differently," comments Izaya, wriggling his fingers over the sensitive skin for a bit, then resting them dangerously close to Kida's groin. "How interesting—you say one thing but mean another! Dirty little liar!"

Kida bites the back of his hand to resist making any noises when Izaya rubs him over his pants. He prepares to bite hard, hard _er_ , but before he knows it, Izaya's weight—his hands, his fingers, his touching—is gone. You piece of shit, Kida thinks, hurriedly pulling his shirt back down.

As much as he dislikes to admit it, Izaya's touching has roused him a little. Kida concentrates on fixing that problem, breathing long, slow breaths and trying to calm down—it's more than arousal. His mind is now having it's own little freak out and marathon.

"Why did I wake up here?" he asks. He barely remembers. So tired. So tired.

"You rode me home," Izaya says as if it's the most normal thing in the world. "And passed out on my back! So cute! So I brought you to my bed and figured I could use a little relaxing, too. So much work I've done today! And you were just so much fun to sleep with!"

Dare Kida ask why? At least he doesn't have to question the wording of sleep with, as his ass doesn't hurt in the slightest.

Ah, he doesn't need to ask why—as he sits up, Izaya's opening his mouth again. He'd only paused to finish changing clothes.

"Did you know you like to cuddle?" asks Izaya, grinning at Kida and approaching the bed again. "You clung to me almost the whole time! That's quite unusual for you, isn't it?"

Kida frowns at him. It's all he can think to do, all his attention focused on not showing any physical reaction to Izaya's words. He throws a pillow at the informant, but it's useless, as he's damn fast.

"Be nice to me, Masaomi," he instructs, lightly pushing Kida back down again. "You know what I can do to you. And what I can do _for_ you." He leans down to kiss the boy, _deeply,_ working his way into that sweet mouth and making it impossible for Kida to resist. He has hormones, after all.

But that's all he gives. Another tease. Izaya quickly steps off him, giving Kida his space. He's done enough high-level work on the poor thing, so now it's time to switch to something a bit less intense. Something that's a bit more normal, a bit more, ah, human-like, so much that Kida won't even know what he's doing! It's a brilliant plan, and Izaya is quite proud of himself!

"If you're hungry, you're welcome to my kitchen, but I don't cook," says Izaya, walking out the door and waving good-bye. "You're staying here tonight, Masaomi. It shouldn't be any trouble! You can always say you're staying with Mikado, right!"

He's fucking laughing as he leaves. Kida would spit on the guy's bed if he didn't have a heart. God, why did he care so much? Even though he tries to convince himself otherwise, he can't stop feeling...sympathy, is it? Feeling bad? Or is it just genuinely feeling for Izaya? Either way, he's disgusted in himself. Why couldn't he feel pity, instead? Is that not what the others feel when they see Izaya? That poor guy, he has no friends...but he deserves it and brought it on himself, they probably think, but for some odd reason, Kida's thoughts did not include the _he deserves it and brought it on himself._

Well, actually—they do, he knows that's the truth, but he just cannot bring along the actual will to let it go. To let him go. Kida never, before today, thought he is this weak.

* * *

The rest of the night goes oddly well. Kida makes himself dinner and eats it on the couches downstairs while Izaya does his work. It is, unfortunately, a bit close to him, but yet, far away enough for Kida to maintain a decent comfort level. He had been toyed with by Izaya a fairly decent amount today, and he wants that to be it. And, luckily, it is. Izaya talks to him a little, but it's normal conversation. Surprisingly.

Izaya was the one to go to bed first. Kida was quite happy about this, it gave him all sorts of possibilities—he's awake now, wide awake, and the town is ready for his taking. Sneaking out doesn't seem that difficult, and besides, he'll be back by morning. He just opens and closes the door very slowly, very quietly, very carefully. No confrontation is best, and he'll appear in the guest room in a few hours. Izaya will never know. _Even though he knows everything._


	3. VERY CLEAR INDICATOR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The alleyway is his secret. A long time ago, Kida had been jumped and attacked by his rival gang, the Blue Squares, in this same alley. He had dialled Izaya's number as a reaction, having no one else to turn to, though he never had the chance to be able to speak to him. An attacking gang member kicked the phone right out of his hand as it started to ring, and flew across the alley. Kida figured it would be broken, and Izaya would never even know he'd called, and he'd be in serious shit.

The alleyway is his secret. A long time ago, Kida had been jumped and attacked by his rival gang, the Blue Squares, in this same alley. He had dialled Izaya's number as a reaction, having no one else to turn to, though he never had the chance to be able to speak to him. An attacking gang member kicked the phone right out of his hand as it started to ring, and flew across the alley. Kida figured it would be broken, and Izaya would never even know he'd called, and he'd be in serious shit.

He had been wrong. It wasn't long before Izaya arrived, and Kida was capable of putting up a fight defending himself until then, leaving with only a couple of sore spots and bleeding cuts. The opposing gang members were scared off simply by reputation once Izaya introduced himself.

Present day, this place serves as a sort of reminder for that moment. Another reminder of what Izaya is capable of being—a human, with a heart. Sometimes. And Kida has seen it. Many times, however, this is the most memorable. The thought of someone else having seen this side of Izaya honestly _burns,_ and makes Kida downright jealous.

But no one else knows of this place. It is his secret. Even Izaya isn't aware that the boy comes here when seeking nostalgia in this chaotic reality.

At the moment, Kida is hidden behind a tall stack of boxes left out by the new liquor store. It's nearly pitch black outside, the streets illuminated by streetlamps, but the alley only lightly touched by the moon's weak light. He's thinking and thinking and telling himself happy things, remembering happy things, saying how he'll text Mikado and make plans as soon as he can! He can still try to have a normal life, right? Izaya doesn't own him.

And then, he hears scuffling and two men appear in the alleyway, obviously drunkenly fighting, pushing and shoving their way near the back. They don't quite reach, nor see, Kida, but they come close, situating themselves a few feet across from each other and throwing harsher punches and shoves and kicks. There doesn't appear to be any weapons, but the men become scratched up and beaten. Kida hides in the shadows, hoping they don't happen to stumble on him or notice his presence. His phone has already been switched to silent.

The men continue, punches becoming worse and worse and Kida can hear the awful sounds their bodies are making, and fuck, fuck, he's scared out of his mind. Finally, one hits the other, extra hard, slamming him back into the brick wall of the alley headfirst. The sound of that impact is even worse, absolutely _horrifying_ , and he cringes, hearing and watching the man slump to the ground. The other seems satisfied, spitting blood and wiping his mouth, walking off, just like that.

Was the guy dead—? No, no, he doesn't want to know, and he certainly doesn't want to look. He can't believe what just happened, right in front of him, and he did nothing, could do nothing, to stop it. His first reaction, as shock wears off, is to hastily pull out his phone.

Of course he didn't receive any texts. No one knew he was gone, right?

 _Come pick me up,_ he types, brain shaking, hands shaking, writing Izaya's name in the 'to' address form, _please_. He adds the last part for good measure.

And then sits, even rocking a bit, shocked and freaked and the like. Izaya's not going to reply, what is he thinking? The guy's asleep. Fast asleep. One little text won't wake him. Kida will just—

But his _phone goes off._ Kida almost drops his phone as he rushes to look at the reply. _I'll gladly save you, my Masaomi,_ it reads. From Izaya. So the fucker was awake. There was no way he woke up and replied in that short of time.

Kida's too shaken to think to tell him where he's located. And Izaya doesn't even ask. He doesn't notice that, anyways. Time passes and he still doesn't think of it, he's too busy being scared and wondering if the other guy's going to come back. And if this one is...dead.

He just stays hidden in his corner, holding back tears—that's not manly. Telling himself at a time like this that he still has to be manly makes him forget about the current situation a little. The blood from the possibly dead guy is pooling so much it even reaches to wear Kida is sitting, but he pays no mind. Maybe he doesn't even notice it's there.

"My, this scene is certainly messy," Kida hears, the voice belonging to no other than Izaya. "And where is my Masaomi? Hopefully he hasn't gotten dirtied up, too~!"

Kida's voice is dead, but it takes less than ten seconds for Izaya to walk far enough and catch onto the boy sitting in the corner, next to a bunch of old boxes labelled as alcohol.

"This is a dirty, nasty place to be, you know?" says the informant, leaning down in front of Kida, who's still withdrawn from society. "That man is dead. Did you watch it? Did you know he would be dead?"

"No," is all the younger can muster up, suddenly unwrapping his arms from his knees and then moving forth, crawling for a step or two. Kida throws his arms behind the man, not even stopping to think about how Izaya will take his next actions—he's just witnessed a murder, a fucking _murder,_ and now all he needs is _someone, anyone._ He buries his face into the soft neck of fur of Izaya's jacket.

"There, there, my Masaomi," comforts Izaya, happily reciprocating the childish embrace. "You're safe, you see? I'd never hurt you like that." The statement is all sorts of fucked. But Kida cannot bother with that right now. He just wants _out of here_.

"But...how did you know...?" Kida asks, quietly, the question that finally comes to his mind.

"All you wrote to me was to save you," replies Izaya, "and I think that is a very clear indicator of where I'm meant to go." He really is horrible. This statement only makes Kida yearn for him to act like this more often. More human. More desirable! And worse than any torture—it is devastating to know that Kida wants Izaya enough to want him to change, and that he clings to any sign of such.

It really would be better to just be able to forget about him. If only that was possible. If only he could really, truly convince himself of the man's worthlessness and utter failure as a proper person. Maybe that would work if Izaya would stop being so damn convincing!

Fuck, he's attached. It's the worst.

* * *

Sorry for the short chapter! 


End file.
